


Grief

by telling_you_stories



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Angst, Best Friends Squad, Bow Is a Good Friend (She-Ra), Feelings, Gen, Post-Episode: s03e06 The Portal, Post-Season/Series 03, technically Catra doesn't show up in this fic but doesn't make it not a Catradora fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:34:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25192471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telling_you_stories/pseuds/telling_you_stories
Summary: Adora's chest ached. Closing the portal was a victory, so she should feel victorious. But how could she? How could she feel she'd succeeded when she hadn't been able to save her best friend's mother?Angella. She'd believed in Adora. Called Adora brave. Inspiring. And now... she was gone.And there was everything else that had happened in the portal. The things she'd said to Catra...
Relationships: Adora & Bow & Glimmer (She-Ra), Adora & Bow (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	Grief

Glimmer’s face was buried in Bow’s chest, her tears flowing down the hard surface of his breastplate. Bow and Adora exchanged helpless looks over the top of Glimmer’s head as she sobbed.

They were curled up together on the window seat in Glimmer’s room. If any of them had looked outside they would’ve been treated to a glorious sunset, the last rays of daylight setting the gilding of Bright Moon’s architecture aflame and drawing out a full rainbow of colors from the Moonstone.

But none of them had any attention for anything outside their little bubble of grief.

Bow wrapped his arms around Glimmer a little more tightly, and Adora awkwardly stroked her fluffy, pink hair. It felt woefully insufficient, but it was all they could do.

Adora’s chest ached. Closing the portal was a victory, so she should feel victorious. But how could she? How could she feel she’d succeeded when she hadn’t been able to save her best friend’s mother?

Angella. She’d believed in Adora. Called Adora brave. Inspiring. And now... she was gone.

And there was everything else that had happened in the portal. The things she’d said to Catra...

But no. Adora sniffled and wiped the tears out of her eyes. This wasn’t about... her. This was about Glimmer. Her best friend, who’d given her a home and a purpose and the love and support she needed. Adora should be thinking about Glimmer now, not focused on her own messed up feelings about her ex-best friend.

She shifted on the cushions and began rubbing small circles on Glimmer’s back in a way that she hoped was comforting, copying what Bow had done for her on occasion. Bow had his face buried in the top of Glimmer’s head, his eyes squeezed shut and his tears soaking into Glimmer’s hair.

After long moments, Adora heard Glimmer mumble something into Bow’s chest. 

Bow shifted slightly. “Glimmer? I’m sorry, I can’t understand you.”

Glimmer sat up, revealing her blotchy, tear-stained face. “The last thing I ever told her was that she was useless. That she was too scared to decide what to do.” She sniffled and wiped her eyes. “The last conversation we ever had was an argument! I told her –” she choked on a sob “– I told her she’d always be around telling me what to do! And now I’ll never see her again. She’ll never get to tell me _anything,_ ever again.”

Her voice dissolved in a keening wail and more tears. She slid off the window seat to sit on the floor, burying her face in her knees and wrapping her arms around her legs, her body shaking.

Bow and Adora exchanged glances again. Adora felt completely useless – this wasn’t the kind of problem she could solve by hitting it with her sword. Surely Bow would know what to do?

He tried. Moving to the floor to kneel beside Glimmer, he said, “She knows that you loved her, Glimmer. And she loved you. She loved you _so_ much – that’s why she... why she...” But Bow couldn’t finish the sentence, tears running down his face. Instead, he reached out a hand towards Glimmer’s shoulder, but she flinched away.

“I was a coward,” she said thickly. “If I were just a little bit braver – if I’d just convinced her to _trust_ me...”

_I am a coward._ Angella’s voice echoed in Adora’s head

She didn’t know the right thing to say, but she had to try _something._.

“Angella thought you were brave.” The words came out raspy and strained, like her throat was struggling just as much as the rest of her. But Adora was determined to make Glimmer feel better. She dropped to the floor next to her friends and tried again.

“Angella said you were brave. She said you were like Micah... like your father, that way.”

Glimmer hiccuped and looked up at Adora. “She did?”

Adora wrapped an arm around Glimmer’s shoulders and squeezed. “She did. At... at the very end. She told me that you were good at making hard choices. And that she was choosing to be brave, too. Like you are.” _Like I am,_ a voice whispered. But Glimmer didn’t need to know that Angella had called Adora inspiring. That was something Adora was going to keep locked up, a personal, private treasure.

“She thought I was brave,” Glimmer repeated quietly. Then her face crumpled. “But the last thing we ever did was fight!”

“No! No, that’s not true.” Suddenly, Adora remembered. Bow, in dorky glasses and a thick sweater tucked into his pants. Glimmer, in that childish, frilly dress. The world crumbling around them as Glimmer pleaded with Queen Angella and King Micah to understand. “Do you remember the things that happened in the portal?”

Glimmer sniffled and nodded slowly. “I remember. Dad was there. We were... happy.”

Adora touched Glimmer’s shoulder. “Your mom was there too. And you talked to her then. You said you were sorry.”

“But that wasn’t real!”

“But _you_ were real, weren’t you?” Adora persisted. “Everything you said and did. When you told me I was stubborn, that I was your best friend... that you believed in me. That was all real, right?”

“I... I guess so.” Glimmer wasn’t convinced, but she was listening, so Adora went on.

“And what your mom did...” Adora’s voice cracked. _“That_ was real. It was real enough to save us. To save everything.”

Glimmer closed her eyes and nodded again, fresh tears running down her cheeks. “It was,” she said in a hoarse whisper.

“So what _you_ said... that was real too.” Adora swallowed. “The last thing she said to me – the last thing she said, was ‘Now I choose to be brave.’ And then, ‘Take care of each other.’” She wrapped both of her arms around Glimmer. “We _must_ be brave, Glimmer. And I _will_ take care of you, no matter what.”

Bow hugged both of them tightly. “We love you, Glimmer, and we’re so sorry.”

And they stayed there like that – Glimmer shaking with sobs, Adora wrapped around her, Bow holding them tight together – for several long minutes.

Finally, Glimmer lifted her head and pushed them both gently. “Come on, guys,” she said with a weak chuckle, “I need to breathe.”

Bow and Adora sat up, both wiping their faces. Glimmer turned and rested her arms on the edge of the window seat, setting her chin on top to gaze out across the scenery.

While they’d been sitting there, the sun had set. Etheria’s familiar moons were out, shining against the pure black velvet of the sky, brighter than anything except the pearlescent brilliance of the Moonstone. Glimmer gazed at the runestone for a long time, its reflection sparkling in her eyes.

“It’s late,” said Glimmer finally. “We should get some sleep.”

“Do you want us to stay with you tonight?” Bow asked her gently.

Glimmer paused for a moment, then shook her head and sighed. “No. I think I need to be by myself for a little while.” She raised her head and looked at Bow hopefully. “But would you tuck me in?”

Adora slipped out into the hallway while Bow brought Glimmer a glass of water, fluffed her pillows, and wrapped her blankets snugly around her. As close as they were, Adora still felt like the odd one out sometimes. She knew Bow and Glimmer loved her, too, but it was different when you’d known someone for years. When you’d grown up together. When you had a thousand little moments shared, hundreds of days to memorize everything about each other.

Adora didn’t have that. Not with Bow and Glimmer. And now there was no chance of her having that with... with anyone.

She tried to stop the tears from coming. She’d already cried enough, hadn’t she? And those tears were for someone who deserved it – kind, beautiful Angella, who’d sacrificed herself to save them all. And crying about Glimmer, that was okay too. Glimmer was her friend, her wonderful, brave friend, who’d lost her mother and needed Adora to be strong for her.

But this wave of emotion wasn’t about either of them.

Adora covered her face with her hands, dug her fingers into her eyelids and pushed her palms into her mouth, as though she could shove the feelings back inside. But the tears still came, leaking out over her hands with a quiet, desperate wail.

Trying to convince herself that Catra didn’t deserve any of her sorrow just made Adora cry harder.

“Okay, she’s asleep,” Bow whispered, closing the door behind him. “Do you want to – whoa, Adora, what’s wrong?”

Adora gasped and shook her head, words entirely beyond her ability.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Bow said quietly, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “We’ll get through this.” He cast an anxious glance over his shoulder at Glimmer’s doors. “How about we take a walk, okay? I could use some fresh air.”

Adora wrapped her arms around herself and nodded, allowing Bow to guide her down the hall.

***

Bow led them out to a balcony and to a delicate golden bench. He’d stopped by the kitchen on the way to snag them glasses of water while Adora waited nervously in the hallway. She hoped no one would walk past and see her – see She-Ra, the Princess of Power – skulking through Bright Moon a snotty, red-faced, puffy-eyed mess.

“Here.” Bow passed Adora one of the glasses, and then ripped open a large packet of something small and crunchy to set on the bench between them. “Water, and salt. Figured you’d – we’d both need them after all that crying.”

Adora gave Bow a small smile. “Thanks. I really appreciate it.”

They sat in companionable silence. Adora methodically shoveled the snack into her mouth, barely tasting it as she swallowed. She drained the last of her water, then let her head fall back and her eyes shut with a sigh.

Bow had been right, as usual. The water and the food helped her feel less like a wrung-out training shirt, and the cool night air helped clear her head. Why was she even thinking about Ca– about her enemies, when she had friends like Bow?

At her second sigh, Bow said gently, “Want to talk about it?”

“I’m just sad, Bow.”

“About...?”

“About Angella. Of course.” Adora tried to force her emotions into the appropriate channels. Tried to feel the _right_ things. “What else is there to be sad about?”

Bow didn’t answer right away. When he finally spoke, looking out over the neatly manicured gardens before them, Adora thought he was changing the subject. “You know, of everything we saw in the portal, what I can’t get out of my mind is Entrapta.”

“Entrapta?” Adora frowned.

“Yeah.” Bow sighed. “What she said about the robots being her friends. And what she said about – if they break, she can just make _new_ friends.” He looked down at his hands. Twisted his fingers together, then held open his palms. Still without looking at Adora, he added, “Did you see the robots?”

“Um.... yes?” Adora answered.

Bow looked at her, waiting.

“They were very... roboty?” she tried again.

Bow laughed. “Yeah, they were. But I was talking about two in particular. There was one that looked like Scorpia, and one that looked...” He swallowed. “One that looked like Hordak.”

“Oh.” Adora paused, and let that sink in. “She didn’t just make robots and say they were her friends. She reconstructed her friends as robots.”

“Yeah,” Bow nodded. “And the best friends she has aren’t us. Entrapta didn’t remember anyone from the Rebellion as her friends. The people she cares the most about...”

“...Are our enemies,” Adora finished. The realization felt like a kick to her chest. “But before she disappeared she said it was nice being friends with us. That has to mean something, right?”

“Maybe.” Bow sighed. “I don’t know if she meant it was nice being friends in the portal, or before. But either way... we’re not friends now.”

He was twisting his fingers together again. Adora put out her hand and touched him, stilling the nervous motion. He gripped her hand and went on, still looking out over the dark garden.

“I’m really sad Angella is gone, too. She was like another parent to me. And I can’t even imagine what Glimmer is feeling. But I also keep remembering Entrapta, with her robot friends, that look like our enemies. And then I remember that Entrapta is our enemy, too. And I keep thinking... could I have done anything differently? To keep Entrapta on the same side as us, instead of fighting against us? So it wouldn’t take a fake portal world for us to be friends again?”

Adora shivered. Bow’s words were going down a familiar path, one her own mind had traveled over too many times.

He continued, “We all saw a lot of things in the portal. Different ways the world could be. It... it was a lot to take in. And I just wondered if maybe there was something that happened to you in there, that you might be thinking about. Besides Angella.” With that, he finally turned away from the garden to look at Adora.

She swallowed. Bow’s soft brown eyes were kind, but his expression was firm. He’d seen right through her.

And this was Bow. Her friend. If anyone could help her sort out her traitorous thoughts – could listen to her unfair preoccupations with patience and sympathy – it was Bow. And maybe he could help her untangle her feelings, and help her feel the way she should about... about everything.

“It’s... Catra,” she said finally.

Bow nodded at her, and Adora finally let go, everything she’d been bottling up flowing out in a torrent of words.

“In the portal, at first I was back in the Fright Zone. It was like I’d never found the sword. I was a Force Captain, everyone was proud of me, and... Catra and I were friends again.” She closed her eyes, remembering: their casual banter, Catra’s easy affection, the vision of their future together. _The two of us, ruling Etheria together, just like we always planned._ The world, flickering in and out. All of it a confusing muddle of happiness and wrongness.

She shook her head, trying to dislodge the memories. “But of course none of it was real. And it all started to fall apart. We had to leave. Catra didn’t want to go. But... I made her. This time I _made_ her come with me.” Her voice broke, and she realized she’d started crying again. “When I left the Horde in the real world, I _wanted_ her to come with me. And I’ve always wondered – did I do enough? If I’d just tried a little harder to get her to come with me, would she be here in the Rebellion with me – with us? Instead of fighting against us?”

  
“But this time,” Adora continued, her mouth setting in a grim line, “in the portal, I zapped her with a stun stick and knocked her out. I literally carried her out with me. I wasn’t going to let her go again.”

Bow squeezed her hand in silent support.

“I did everything I could, Bow,” Adora said. “And it didn’t make any difference. She still wouldn’t come with me. She...” Adora was sobbing now, her voice thick with tears. She wasn’t sure how much Bow could understand, but she plowed on, not sure she’d be able to get through it more than once.

“Catra told me she’d _never_ go with me. That she’d rather see the world end than let me ‘win.’ I’m not trying to win!” she gasped, gripping Bow’s hand with both of her own. “I’m not trying to fight her, Bow. I was _never_ trying to fight her. Why does she have to fight _me?_ Why couldn’t she just _come with me?”_

Then she broke down completely. Bow kept a hand on her back as she cried. There were so many feelings flowing out of her – emotions she couldn’t name. She wanted to cry, to punch things, to find Catra and yell at her and shake her, but also to put her arms around her and hold her and finally convince her everything could be okay.

For so long she’d tried to find the right combination to unlock Catra. To find the words, the actions to convince her to leave the Horde, to come join Adora. She tried so long to convince herself that this was all just a mistake, that Catra just didn’t understand, that deep down she was still the Catra she’d grown up with and lov– cared about.

But if one good thing had come out of the portal, it was that Adora was no longer torn. She finally saw who Catra really was.

She took a deep breath and continued. “Catra tried to drag me in with her. Into... I don’t know what it was. The light where the portal was disintegrating the world. I wouldn’t let her take me down with her. And I tried, but I couldn’t save her. And she... let go. And fell in. I thought she was gone, forever.” Adora’s chest tightened at the memory of the look on Catra’s face when she’d let go of the crumbling cliff. She’d looked right into Adora’s eyes as she’d fallen, like her death would be a final ‘fuck you’ to Adora.

But she didn’t die. Adora took a ragged breath and repeated out loud, “She didn’t die. Didn’t disappear. She found me again.” Adora swallowed “But she was falling apart, just like the world. Her... her arm. And her face.” She gestured vaguely. “They were black, not all there. And we fought. The world was shifting around us, and she said... well, she said a lot of things.”

Everything Catra had said were echoes of what Adora was used to hearing inside her own head. _All of this is your fault. If you’d been a better She-Ra, none of this would’ve ever happened. If you never existed, everything would be better. You broke the world and it is all your fault._

But hearing it coming from Catra – from that wrong, broken, haunting version of Catra – Adora had realized that it was all a lie.

Adora met Bow’s eyes. He was waiting patiently for her to continue. She said quietly, “I finally realized that nothing I could do – nothing I could’ve done – would bring her back to me. That I can’t _make_ her change.” Her voice caught again. “Bow. I’m never going to get Catra back.”

“Oh, Adora.” Bow’s eyes were glistening. This was so unfair – Catra didn’t deserve Adora’s tears, and she definitely didn’t deserve Bow’s. But here he was, crying anyways.

Adora had thought she was all out of tears, but seeing Bow’s face set her off again. She choked out a sob, then buried her face in Bow’s shoulder when he put his arms out to her.

He rubbed her back, soothing little circles, as she let out gasping, heaving sobs. When she finally quieted down, he said gently, “No wonder you’re so upset. You’re grieving twice over. Angella, and Catra.”

“But Catra’s not gone!” she argued. “She’s alive and well. Probably plotting the Horde’s next move against us right now,” she added in a small, hard voice.

“I know,” Bow agreed. “But until the portal, you were still holding out hope that she’d come back to you. And that’s what you’re grieving: the loss of that hope. You were keeping the fire of your friendship burning in your heart... but now that flame has gone out.”

And that was it. It did feel like a death. The end of the possibility of a future where she and Catra were together again. Adora had finally let go. And it hurt like hell. But it also felt freeing, somehow.

She sat up and rubbed her eyes. “You know,” she sniffled, “I hit her. Actually punched her. Right in the face.” She tapped her cheekbone to illustrate.

Bow chuckled and wrapped her up in another hug. “Really? I’m proud of you.”

“For hitting someone in the face?”

“No. For standing up for yourself.” Bow gave her one last squeeze and then let her go, holding her at arm's length. “You showed Catra she can’t walk all over you. And you realized you can’t take responsibility for someone else’s choices. I know you like to hold the weight of the world on your shoulders. But you realized that you’re not responsible for what Catra has done. And I’m proud of you for that.”

Adora felt warmth blossom in her chest. _This_ was what friendship looked like. Love, support, Bow listening with his open face and open heart and open arms. Nothing like the confusion and pain she felt with Catra.

Unexpectedly, Catra’s voice echoed in her head. _Isn’t this what you want?_

Adora shook her head. No – everything that had happened in the portal was a lie.

But Catra’s voice persisted. _Stay with me, okay?_

She’d told Glimmer that what they’d said in the portal world had been real. And Catra had felt real. Like she’d really wanted to know what Adora wanted... and she’d really wanted Adora to stay.

But Adora finally realized that it didn’t matter. She knew what she wanted, but she couldn’t _make_ Catra give it to her. Adora had given Catra too many chances, and she hadn’t taken a single one. If Catra wanted to be with Adora, she’d have to find her way back on her own.

“Thank you for being my friend, Bow.” She put her hands on his shoulders. Steady. Kind. Dependable. That was her Bow. “Thank you for being proud of me. I don’t know what I would do without you, or Glimmer.”

Bow smiled. “We’re the best friends squad. We’ll always have each other.” He put his hand up to Adora’s cheek and brushed away the last of her tears. “You said Angella told us to take care of each other? Well, that means letting us take care of you, too.”

“Yeah.” Adora finally smiled too. “I guess it does.”

He stood up and held out a hand. “Want me to tuck you in, too?”

She took it. “Actually... I do. Thank you, Bow.”


End file.
